The Last Great City: Ithuriel
by Jade Morgenstern
Summary: After the apocalypse, humans retreated to underground. Idris is all there is. This great city that is as high and as wide as you can see. It's so large that it has been divided into sectors. Ours is called Ithuriel. This is the story of Clarissa Fray, and the last great city. All-human Clary/Jace. Based off of Underground by Purrina57
1. Chapter 1

**Hi! I'm Jade Morgenstern (or at least I was when I posted this).**

**This story is based off of a story written by Purrina57 called Underground. I'd recommend you read it, but she deleted it.**

**Anyway, I really liked the story, and it inspired me to write this one!**

**So, in this story, after the world ended, humans fled to underground. This particular story takes place in the twelfth sector of fifteen called Ithuriel (each sector is names after an angel, except for Alicante). Ithuriel is a lower middle class sector, so they don't have electricity (or much anyway), and pretty much everyone wears jeans and T-shirts.**

**Any more questions you have you can put in a review or PM me. I hope you like this story!**

* * *

The world ended a hundred years ago, they say, but we're still here. Humans fled to underground. This is the last human city as far as we know.

There are stories; they say everyone used to have electricity. Cities were alive with light and power rather than everything being lit by fire. There used to be a bright, blue sky overhead rather than the pitch blackness that looms over all of Idris. There were trees, plants, grass and the air was fresh... I fantasize about it sometimes- what it must have been like.

Idris is all there is now. This great city that is as high and as wide as you can see. It's so large that it has been divided into fifteen sectors. Ours is called Ithuriel.

This is the story of a girl with a complicated family secret, falling in love with someone she met by chance. This is the story of the last great city.

* * *

"Is this all we made today?" Asked Maryse, looking at the pile of copper coins on the small, round table.

"Yeah," said Jace. "Business was slow today. Sorry."

Maryse sighed exasperatedly and put her hand on her protruding stomach. "I don't know if we'll have enough to pay the band _and_ get enough booze for the week. This is exactly why I wanted you guys to learn how to play instruments."

"Not really my thing," Isabelle called across the empty room from behind the bar.

"Nothing is," said Maryse, looking down at the coins spread across the table.

"Hey!" Isabelle glared at her. "I heard that!"

Maryse ignored her. She took the coins by the handful and stuffed them into the leather pouch. "I'm going to bed. Goodnight."

Jace saw Alec watch after her from behind the bar as she walked across the room and up the wooden stairs, hand on her lower back.

"I'm a bit worried about her," Alec said after she was gone. "She's staying up till three every night and she's six months pregnant."

"So?" Said Isabelle. "She can handle it. She's tougher than she looks. And she makes up for the sleep the morning after."

"Still," said Alec. "It isn't healthy. She should go to bed before Dad does, and he can count the day's wages."

"I don't disagree with you," said Jace. "Maryse is pushing herself pretty hard, isn't she?"

Isabelle looked at him sideways. "Did you just call her Mom _Maryse_?"

"Oops. I've gotten used to it I guess," Jace shrugged.

"You pretty much only see her during work hours," said Alec. "It makes sense."

Jace shrugged again. "I don't think she really cares."

Alec began to wipe down the bar.

Isabelle was still cleaning the same glass she had been when Maryse was there.

"Isabelle, that's just sad," said Jace.

Isabelle frowned. "Huh?"

"That glass. Can you really not get the spit off of it?"

Isabelle stopped cleaning and looked down at it. "Oops. Forgot I had this," she opened a cupboard and put it away.

The corner of Jace's lips pulled and and he shook his head. "I think you're just _lazy_, Isabelle."

Isabelle turned to face him and planted her hands on her hips. "I don't see you doing anything."

Jace shrugged. "Not my thing."

* * *

Clary glanced down at the scrap of paper in her hand before knocking on the door.

After a few seconds, the door opened.

"Clary!"

"Hi, Rebecca," Clary smiled.

"Simon or Me?"

"You."

Rebecca nodded. "Come in," she opened the door wide and gestured inside.

Clary walked into the Lewis' home/herbal shop and Rebecca shut the door behind her. "Doing some shopping for your mom?" She asked.

Clary nodded and handed her the scrap of paper.

Rebecca looked over it. "Shepherd's purse, blue cohosh, black cohosh... I think we're out of comfrey."

"Its fine. Tell me when you get more."

Rebecca nodded, still looking at the list. "Can do. I'll get these for you. Be right back," she walked to the back room.

The Lewis' house was fairly big for an Ithuriel house; it had two stories. Almost no one had stairs if they didn't live in an apartment, like Clary did.

Clary went up the creaky, wooden stairs and peeked through the cracked door into her best friend, Simon's room. He was sitting on his tiny bed, an open book in his hands. He was holding it as if it were made of glass.

"Is that a _book_?!" Clary exclaimed, eyes wide.

Simon jumped, nearly dropping it. "Don't _scare_ me! I nearly dropped it!"

Clary rushed over to his bed and sat next to him, looking at it. "Where did you _get_ that?"

"A friend."

"Oh my god," Clary grinned. "What book is it?"

Simon closed it and looked at the front. "_Twilight_."

Clary leaned closer. "... You didn't do anything _illegal_ to get this, did you?"

Simon shook his head. "He needed a favor. I snuck into his ex-girlfriend's house and got his... Never mind. He payed me back with this," she gestured to the book with his chin.

Clary marveled at it. Books from the old world were extremely rare. There were reading materials, but they were educational. Books from way back when had characters, plots, _stories_.

Books were rather rare now. Barely anyone had one. "Is it any good?"

Simon shrugged. "I guess. It's about vampires."

Clary nodded. "Maybe you can read it to me sometime."

Simon glanced at her and smiled. "Sounds fun."

"Clary," Rebecca was standing in Simon's doorway, a small canvas bag in her hands. Her eyes widened as Simon tried to hide it. "Is that a book?" She walked over and Simon showed her. "Wow," she breathed. "How did you _get_ it?"

"Long story," said Simon. "Don't tell Mom."

"Sure," Rebecca nodded. She looked at Clary. "I've got your herbs, Clary," she held out the bag.

"Thanks," Clary took out a handful of coins from her pocket. "How much?"

"Eight coppers."

Clary sorted out eight from her ten and put them in Rebecca's hand. She gave her the bag. "Thanks," Clary stood up. "I should get home, but it was nice seeing you guys."

"You too," said Rebecca.

"Bye, Clary," said Simon.

Clary walked out of the room and shut the door.

"_Really_, Simon?" She heard Rebecca's voice from inside the room. She lingered to hear more.

"What?" Said Simon.

Rebecca sighed. "I _know_, Simon."

There was a few seconds of silence that followed. "I don't know what you're talking about."

Rebecca laughed. "Are you ever gonna tell her?"

"No!" Said Simon. "Never. Not in a million years- ever."

"Jeez, no need to get so worked up. I was only teasing."

"Clary."

Clary jumped and spun around. "Hi Mrs. Lewis," Clary said in a low voice- as to not tip off Rebecca and Simon that she'd been eavesdropping.

"Did you come for more herbs?"

Clary held up the bag. "Got them. Thank you."

"Of course, dear. I hope to see you again soon."

Clary nodded and waved and she turned and walked down the stairs.

* * *

Jocelyn dismounted her bike and leaned it against the outer brick wall of the Pandemonium. She glanced up at the blackness over the city briefly before ringing the bell that was next to the door.

About a minute later, the door opened and a very tired-looking Isabelle Lightwood answered the door.

"Can I help you?" She asked. Her black hair was in two messy braids that went in front of her shoulders, and down to her waist, and she was in sweatpants and a T-shirt. She looked slightly cold.

"Yes. I'm Jocelyn Garroway, the midwife. I'm here to see your mom."

Isabelle's eyes sparked with recognition. "Oh right. I forgot. Come in," she held the door open.

Jocelyn thanked her as she went in.

The Lightwoods' home was over their nightclub, so Jocelyn walked through the empty room towards the stairs.

There were small wooden table at the edges of the large room, and a bar in the center, and a stage in the wall, raised a few feet above the floor.

Jocelyn went up the winding, wooded stairs. Maryse was sitting on the couch in the main room at the top of the stairs. She turned her head and saw her. "Oh, Jocelyn. I forgot you were coming today."

"Sorry, I hope it isn't inconvenient."

Maryse shook her head and stood up. "Not at all. Let's go to the bedroom."

Jocelyn nodded and followed Maryse to her bedroom. She closed the door and Maryse laid down on the double bed- which were the biggest you would see in Ithuriel.

Jocelyn set her bag down on the bedside table. She took out her measuring tape and inched Maryse's shirt up till her entire baby bump was showing. Jocelyn put the tape vertically across her stomach.

"Twenty four centimeters," said Jocelyn.

"Three more months," Maryse smiled.

"Very good. You know your facts."

"I should hope so," she scoffed. "This is my _fourth_."

Jocelyn glanced at her. "I thought this would be your fifth."

Maryse shook her head. "Jace was adopted."

"Ah," Jocelyn nodded. She should've guessed, she thought. Jace didn't look like Maryse or Robert- or his siblings for that matter.

There was a knock on the door.

"Who is it?" Asked Maryse.

"Madeleine Bellefleur, Jocelyn Garroway's assistant."

"You're late," said Jocelyn, sounding disapproving.

"Yes. I'm sorry."

"Come in," said Maryse.

The door opened and Madeleine tentatively entered. "What did I miss?"

"Measuring," said Jocelyn. "She's twenty four centimeters."

Madeleine nodded and set down her bag.

Jocelyn put away her measuring tape and placed her hands on Maryse's stomach. She stiffened. "Oh, sorry," Jocelyn rubbed her hands together rapidly to warm them. She placed her hands on her stomach again. "Better?"

Maryse nodded.

Jocelyn felt around for several seconds, pressing in the appropriate places. "Your baby's gotten bigger," Jocelyn smiled. "And... It's good," Jocelyn went into her bag and pulled out her Pinard horn. She pressed it gently to her stomach and put her ear on the other end. "Heartbeat is strong," she smiled and took the instrument away. "Your baby is healthy, Maryse."

Maryse smiled and placed her hands on her stomach.

"So," Jocelyn closed up her bag and smiled at her. "Your eating properly? Lots of protein and leafy greens?"

Maryse nodded and pulled her shirt back over her belly. "Yes. As much as you can get here anyway," she joked.

"Resting? Getting a proper night's sleep?"

Maryse pressed her lips into a line and looked away.

"Maryse, it isn't good to be working a lot right now. Can you have Robert cover for you?"

Maryse shook her head. "We're pretty busy. We can't even watch Max at night, we just send him to bed."

Jocelyn thought for a second. "You could hire more help. I know someone who could work for cheap."

Maryse looked interested. "Who?"

"My daughter, Clary. She's sixteen, but she has nothing to do, and she's a good worker."

Maryse nodded. "That would be perfect. Thank you so much."

Jocelyn smiled at her. "Of course. Now, I'll have a little talk with Robert, and I want you to rest. Got it?"

Maryse nodded. "Got it."

* * *

Clary went on her toes and looked eagerly over the crowd.

"So, do we have to _lie_ about our ages?" Asked Simon.

"Yes," said Clary, turning to him. "They won't let us in if we say we're sixteen."

Simon sighed. "I don't know how I let you talk me into this."

"C'mon, it'll be fun," she said smiling, and nudged him.

They got to the front of the line, where they were greeted by the bouncer. He was an older man; middle aged. He was tall, and burly with olive skin, and his hair and eyes were both dark.

"Two coppers," said a man. They were right before the open door of Pandemonium, and Clary could feel her excitement surfacing.

"Of course," Clary pulled two copper coins out of her pocket and handed it to him. So did Simon.

The man eyes the two suspiciously. "How _old_ are you two?"

"Nineteen," Clary said at the same as Simon said:

"Eighteen."

The man raised an eyebrow- which made Clary instantly jealous.

"He's eighteen, I'm nineteen," Clary lied, suddenly a little nervous. Clary had always been a terrible liar.

The man stared at them for a long time before gesturing them inside.

Clary gripped Simon's hand and pulled him in.

The room was large. There were small tables on the outskirts of the room, people sitting at them with drinks from the bar in the center of the room. There was a band playing on a stage at the far side of the room, and people everywhere dancing to it, and the lighting was dim. Clary grinned. "Let's dance."

"Um... Okay," said Simon as Clary grabbed his arm and hauled him onto the dance floor.

Simon wasn't a very good dancer. He was sort of awkwardly bouncing in place, occasionally dipping to the floor. Clary didn't really care; she was having fun. Nightclubs, Clary decided, were one of her favorite things.

She danced carelessly to the music- which sounded so interesting. A combination of violin, cello, drums, piano and guitar that created a sort of rock song. Clary hadn't heard much music, but she loved it.

"May I dance with him?" Asked a blonde girl, gesturing at Simon.

Simon looked surprised.

"Sure," said Clary, smiling. Maybe Simon would finally get a girlfriend. "I'll be at the bar."

Simon nodded, looking slightly uncomfortable.

The girl began dancing with him and Clary wandered through the crowd till she found the bar. She sat at an empty stool.

A cute blonde boy smiled at her from behind the bar. "What can I get you?"

"Um," Clary frowned in thought. She didn't really know much about club drinks.

The boy chuckled. "How old are you?"

"Nineteen."

The boy smirked and shook his head. "My guess is your... Fifteen. Don't worry, I won't tell. And I'll still serve you."

"I'm sixteen, actually," Clary admitted.

The boy smiled. "Do you have a specific drink you like?"

Clary shook her head. "I don't really know anything about alcohol."

"Hmm... Tell you what: I'll make one for you, and we'll see if you like it."

Clary smiled. "Sounds good."

Clary watched him and he took a combination of different things and put them into her glass. He set in in front of her and smiled. "I think I got it. Try it; tell me what you think."

Clary took a small sip from the glass. It barely had any alcohol in it, and it tasted almost fruity. "Oh I _like_ this."

The boy chuckled.

Clary glanced at him as she took another sip. He looked like he'd gotten lots of girls with that sideways smirk. He was one of the most attractive boys Clary had ever seen, with his mesmerizing golden eyes and curling blonde hair. His black, fitted T-shirt showed off his muscular frame, and Clary found herself trying not to stare.

"How much?"

"On me," he said, taking a copper coin out of his pocket and putting it somewhere under the bar.

Clary smiled. "Thanks."

"I'm Jace, by the way."

She smiled, blushing slightly. "Clary."

A boy with black hair passed Jace, carrying two glasses. "Stop flirting, Jace. We have other customers," he said sternly.

Clary blushed, despite herself.

Jace smirked at this. "I'll see you around, Clary."

* * *

**Did you like it?**

**Any questions you have, you can leave a review or PM me. I will respond :)**

**-Jade Morgenstern**


	2. Chapter 2

**Hi again! I'm Jade.**

**So this is chapter 2. I hope you like it!**

* * *

"I got you a job," said Jocelyn, taking a sip of water out of her aluminum cup.

"You did?" Said Clary, who was sitting across her mother in their tiny apartment. "What job?"

"Working at Pandemonium."

Clary raised her eyebrows. "The _nightclub_?"

"Yes," Jocelyn brushed back a stray red curl from her forehead. "My client owns it, and she needs some extra help."

The thought of working at Pandemonium seemed foreign, but exciting to Clary at the same time. She thought of the cute bartender, then pushed the thought away.

"Okay, I can do it."

"It is, however a late night job," Jocelyn continued.

Clary shrugged. "That's fine." It's not like Clary went to bed very early anyway.

"... Like, two AM late."

Clary's eyes widened. "Oh… That's okay, I guess."

Jocelyn smiled. "Your such a good sport."

"What are you making her do this time?" Asked Luke, opening the front door.

"Luke!" Jocelyn jumped up from her chair, ran to him, and threw her arms around him.

"Careful. I'm dirty," he laughed. It was true, he had what looked like a thin layer of dirt over his skin- as all the miners did when they returned from work.

"I don't care," said Jocelyn, kissing him.

Clary rolled her eyes fondly.

"Hey Clary," he said.

"Hi Dad. How was work?"

He shrugged. "Nothing interesting happened, really. How was your day?"

"Good. Mom got me a job at Pandemonium."

Luke nodded. "Cool... Am I supposed to know what that is?"

Clary giggled.

"My client's business," Jocelyn explained.

"Ah," Luke nodded. "Well, if you'll excuse me, I should get clean," he kissed Jocelyn briefly on the lips. "I'll see _you_ in a little bit."

* * *

Jace pulled off his t-shirt- which he'd spilled rum on while trying to impress a girl. He dug through his drawer. The only shirt left was a gray T-shirt that was slightly too tight on him. He- like most others in Ithuriel- had very few items of clothes. Only four shirts and three pairs of pants. He picked it up and pulled it over his head as he left his room.

He saw a girl come up the stairs as he left his and Alec's room. "Sorry, you can't be up here."

The girl turned to see him.

"You," it was the red headed girl from yesterday- was her name _Claire_?

"Oh, sorry," she said. "I'm looking for Maryse Lightwood."

Jace frowned. "... Why are you looking for Maryse?"

"Oh," Maryse came down the hall from behind him. "You must be Clary. You look just like your mother," she smiled.

"That's right," said Clary. "You're Maryse Lightwood?"

Maryse nodded. She looked at Jace. "Jace, this is Clary. She's here to help out around the club for awhile."

Jace raised an eyebrow and looked back at her. "I didn't know that."

"I needed an extra pair of hands," said Maryse. "Could you get Alec to take over for me and Clary can cover for Alec at the bar? She'll need a little training, of course."

Jace remembered the previous day when Clary had said she'd known nothing about alcohol. "Alright. I can do that."

Maryse smiled. "Thank you so much for coming to help, Clary. You're a real saint."

Clary smiled. "Happy to help."

* * *

Clary followed Jace back downstairs and through the crowd to the bar.

"This is where the magic happens," Jace said jokingly.

Clary smiled. "Um... I don't know much about making drinks," she admitted.

"Don't worry," he said, the corner of his lips curving upward slightly. "I'll teach you."

A boy who was working in the bar with black hair came up to them, frowning. "Jace, you can't bring people back here."

"She's new help," said Jace. "Maryse hired her. Maryse is also resting, and has requested that you take over for her."

Alec let out an exasperated sigh. "Fine."

"Hey, at least she's resting now," said a girl with black hair. "Welcome New Girl."

"Isabelle, this is Clary," said Jace. "Clary, these two are Isabelle and Alec."

Alec grumbled and left the bar.

Isabelle gave a little wave. "Hi." Isabelle was gorgeous. She had long ink black hair and charcoal eyes, and Clary noticed several guys at the bar staring at her; their hungry eyes looking from her exposed collar bone to her boots.

"Isabelle, customers," said Jace. "I've got training to do,"

Isabelle rolled her eyes and got back to work.

Jace gave Clary an amused smile. Clary told herself she didn't find it attractive, but she knew she was lying to herself.

* * *

**Valentine's Journal**

May 3, 2437

I've met the most remarkable woman. Her name is Celine Montclaire.

Celine is a lovely blonde woman with beautiful eyes, and she follows me everywhere. It hasn't been long since I've last written, but we've already been together.

August 17, 2437

Celine is pregnant. I'm going to be a father. I hope it's a boy.

May 30, 2438

My son is born. His name is Jonathan Christopher.

July 23, 2438

Celine is pregnant again. I'm very happy.

April 14, 2439

Celine had the baby. We called him Jace.

May 2, 2439

Jace isn't mine. Celine has cheated on me. She was with a man named Stephen Herondale, and I think I will kill him.

May 6, 2439

Stephen Herondale is dead.

June 1, 2439

Celine Montclaire is dead. Jace is no where to be found. He's gone.

July 13, 2439

I've met a new woman. Her name is Jocelyn Fairchild. She has red curly hair, freckles and green eyes. She's beautiful.

October 20, 2439

Jocelyn is pregnant. I'm so blessed.

I think I may be in love with her.

* * *

Jonathan's father, Valentine Morgenstern died April sixteenth, twenty-four-thirty-nine, so Hodge had told him. He also said that Jocelyn disappeared right after that with his half-sister.

After Valentine had died, Hodge took him in and raised him. He was to become the Circle's leader once he was twenty, but he wasn't looking forward to that day. He didn't like being in a gang; hurting and killing people. The only reason he stayed was because he no where else to go.

That's why he was secretly looking for his other half siblings; he wanted to have family he could go to. He read and reread Valentine's journal to try and get clues to finding them.

"Jonathan, aren't you going home?" Asked Jordan, walking over to where Jonathan was sitting on the ground.

"Yeah," said Jonathan, hiding his father's journal in the pocket of his leather jacket. "I'm going now."

Jordan offered his hand and helped Jonathan up.

Jordan smiled. "Well, Sebastian, Jon and I were going to go to that nightclub, Pandemonium, and pick up some chicks. You in?"

Jonathan raised an eyebrow. "What, you're not going to the prostitutes this time?"

Jordan laughed. "That was _one_ time. Are you going to hold that over my head forever?"

"Probably," said Jonathan, suddenly thinking of leaving again. He really could be there forever if he didn't find his siblings.

His smile faded slightly, but Jordan didn't notice; he was busy trying to light his cigarette with the candle-lit lantern hanging from the wall.

"Sure," Jonathan said finally. "Why not."

Jordan had managed to light the cigarette, and was now puffing out a breath full of smoke. He grinned. "Excellent. I'll tell the others."

When they got to Pandemonium, Jonathan went straight to the bar. The other three followed him and sat around him.

Jonathan noticed a few people walked away from them. They knew from their leather jackets that they were dangerous. Jonathan winced. It was lonely being feared. Maybe- just once- he'd go out alone with no jacket and see what it was like...

"What can I get you?" Said a short red headed girl from behind the bar. She looked a little young to be working at a bar.

"Brandy Collins," he said.

The girl nodded. She turned to the other bartender. "Hey Jace, what's in a Brady Collins?"

Jonathan's eyes widened. What kind of bartender didn't know how to make drinks? She must be new.

The other bartender- Jace chuckled. "Brandy, lemon juice, sugar and club soda," he said to her.

She nodded and took out a glass, a bottle of brandy, sugar, a bottle of fizzy water and lime juice.

"_Lemon_," said Jace, laughing.

The girl blushed and switched the lime juice out with lemon.

The corner of Jonathan's lip curled up. This girl was quite obviously new to bartending.

"Now, put in one and a half ounces of brandy," said Jace.

She measured out the brandy and put it into the glass.

"Add one ounce of lemon juice."

She did.

"Now, one teaspoon of sugar and mix it."

She stirred it in the glass.

"Add the club soda, and you're done."

She did and set it in front of Jonathan. "One Brandy Collin."

Jonathan snorted. "Thanks."

"That's _Collins_," Jace chuckled.

The girl blushed.

"Aren't you going to charge me?" Jonathan teased, making her blush more.

"Uh," she shut her eyes for a second, as if trying to remember something.

"All drinks are one copper, Clary," said Jace.

Her eyes flew open. "Right! One copper please."

Jonathan chuckled and handed her two.

"_One_," she said.

"I know. That's a tip."

the girl- Clary blushed again.

"You can keep tips," said the other bartender.

She nodded.

Jonathan took a sip of his drink. It was good.

Jonathan glanced over at his companions; they were watching the situation, amused.

"You guys go dance," said Jonathan.

"You sure?" Said Jon.

"Yes. Go."

The three obviously wanted to, but wouldn't do anything without Jonathan's say so. They got up and went into the crowd of dancing people.

Jonathan looked back at the red headed bartender he'd forgotten the name of as she struggled to make another drink. He chuckled. What an interesting girl, he thought.

* * *

Simon knocked on Clary's front door. There was no answer. He knocked again, but still nothing. He knelt down to the doormat and took out the key from beneath it.

"Clary?" He called once he entered. "Clary are you home?"

He walked through Clary's small apartment, and opened her room door. "Clary?

Clary was sleeping in her small bed under her ratty wool blanket.

"Clary, it's one PM. Why are you still sleeping?"

Clary stirred and looked over at him. Her messy hair was in two red braids. "Simon?"

"You were supposed to meet me for at my house, remember?"

Clary yawned and rubbed her eyes. "Right. Did I sleep passed nine?"

"It's one right now, Clary."

Clary's eyes widened. "ONE?!" She sat up rapidly.

"How are you still asleep?" Simon chuckled, walking over to her bed and sitting beside her. At her proximity, his heart sped up.

"Um," Clary stood up and stretched. "I was up late last night... Drawing."

Simon snorted. "How late?"

"Like... Three?"

Simon whistled. "What were you drawing?"

"Um... It's private," Clary looked down and blushed.

Simon stood up, wondering what she was drawing. "Oh, I brought something for you," he reached into his canvas messenger bag and pulled out a small sack of herbs from his family's shop. "It's comfrey, on the house."

"Oh," Clary smiled. "Thanks, Simon," she took the bag and looked into it, her eyes widening slightly. "Simon, this is a lot, are you sure I don't have to pay for it?" She looked back up at him.

Clary looked beautiful, even first thing in the morning, when she was in her pajamas and her hair was a mess.

"I'm sure," he said.

* * *

**So the money system is three different types of coins; gold coins (which is like $100), silver coins (which is like $10) and copper coins, which they call "coppers" (worth $1). In Ithuriel, most people only carry around about 10 coppers, for spending and avoiding being big mugging targets.**

**Any other questions about this world? I will answer all PMs and try to answer all reviews.**


	3. Chapter 3

**Sorry it took me so long to update! I don't have much inspiration for this story, plus, I've been working on my other ones.****  
**

**Okay, character recap!**

**The Lightwoods own a club called Pandemonium, and they live above it. Jace, Alec, Isabelle, and Max are all already there, and Maryse is pregnant again.**

**Valentine was the leader of a gang called "the Circle" but he'd now dead, leaving the gang to Blackwell, and his son, Jonathan, is to inherit it when the time comes.**

**Jonathan wants to get out of the gang, so he's looking for his half-siblings, who are Clary and Jace (yes, I know that's a bit weird)**

**Jocelyn was pregnant with Clary when Valentine died, and ran off and changed her name when it happened, not wanting that life for her only child.**

**Jocelyn is also a midwife, and Madeleine is her assistant.**

**I hope you enjoy!**

* * *

Jace came down the winding wooden staircase to answer the door. It was midday, and the club was vacant, and closed. The club opened at six, in about three hours.

Jace walked across the large, empty room as the bell next to the door rang again.

"I'm coming!" Jace called. "Shut up!" He unlocked the door, and opened it. A familiar face was outside, his cat-like eyes narrowing when he saw Jace. "Is it Wednesday already?" He asked.

"Yes," said Magnus. "Now, do you want the alcohol or not?"

Jace opened the door all the way, gesturing for Magnus to come in.

Magnus bane was the head of Ithuriel's Black Market, and provided all of Pandemonium's bar supplies. Rumor had it Magnus had men passing the borders between sectors and getting booze from Zophiel, or Michael, or even Seraph.

"I'm short this week," Magnus said as he walked into the club, "so each bottle is one copper more."

Jace looked at him sharply. "_What_?!" he slammed the door stomping after him.

Magnus sat down on one of the bar stools and began inspecting his nails. "You heard me." Magnus was wearing dark skinny jeans that were obviously poached from one of the middle-class sectors, and a long coat, which was probably from the same place. He wore black eyeliner, too, like a prostitute might. You never saw anyone good wearing things like makeup, or heels, or leather, but Magnus wore them all (well, his leather boots _did_ make him taller, but perhaps they didn't classify as _heels_.).

"That is unacceptable." Jace was trying to be firm on business, like Maryse or Robert usually were, but they were both upstairs, doing things for Maryse's pregnancy that Jace didn't want to ask about.

Magnus scoffed, glancing up at Jace. "Where else would you her your booze? The _market_?" Magnus scoffed. "All they have is piss that locals get drunk on." Magnus was clearly amused. It's hard to negotiate when your opponent knows you need him.

Jace growled under his breath.

"Tell you what," said Magnus, putting his feet up on the bar. Great, now Jace would have to wipe that down again. "If you send your cute brother to negotiate instead of you, we may be able to work something out." Magnus grinned, showing off a single silver molar.

Jace frowned. "You mean _Alec_?"

Magnus scoffed. "No, your kid-brother," he said sarcastically. "_Yes_, Alec; the one with the blue eyes."

Jace groaned. "Fine, but I expect a discount."

Magnus shrugged. "Fine."

Jace headed upstairs to get Alec. He was in their bedroom, reading what looked like the family's bar notes, listing recipes, and techniques, and things.

"Alec." Jace still carried his annoyed tone from his previous conversation with Magnus.

Alec looked up at him expectantly. "Yes?"

Jace crossed his arms over his chest and leaned on the door frame. "Your presence has been requested by Magnus Bane."

Alec frowned. "Magnus is _here_?"

Jace shrugged. "It's Wednesday."

Alec closed the book of notes, and set it down on his small bed, then rose to his feet and passed Jace.

He watched as Alec began fixing his hair as he headed to the stairs. This made Jace frown, but quickly dismissed it. He walked into his room, shutting the door behind him, then plopped down on his close-to-the-ground mattress, bored.

Jace let his mind wander to the new girl, Clary. She was a bit young to be working at a club, but then again, so was Jace. And they could really use the help.

Clary was getting better, too, remembering most of peoples' orders and making fairly good drinks.

And, if Jace was being perfectly honest with himself, he thought she was kinda hot. Not the usual kind, who bent over the bar so Jace would see down their shirts, but the kind that didn't know it, and she didn't have to wear anything _mildly_ flattering to show it.

Not only that, but she was… somehow different from all the other girls who he'd met at the bar, where they tried to impress Jace with their drink orders, or how much they could drink, but… he didn't know.

All he knew was that he hoped Clary would stay.

* * *

Jocelyn parked her bike next to Madeleine's against the filthy brick wall of one of the shadiest apartments Jocelyn had ever seen.

"Are you sure the client lives _here_?" said Madeleine, taking the place in. It was a three-level apartment with tagged brick walls, and it smelled like cigarettes and urine.

"That's the address that's on here," said Jocelyn, looking down at the scrap of paper in her hand.

With a shrug, the two went into the building.

It was poorly maintained, with its rotting wooden floors, and its patchy walls.

Madeleine followed Jocelyn up the stairs carefully, minding the few that were missing.

"Third floor," Jocelyn muttered as she clutched her bag to her chest. When they got to the door, Jocelyn knocked timidly. Places like this scared her, scared her because it was where the unpleasant sort lived, like gang members, pimps, prostitutes…

The door cracked, and a boy peeked through. "State your business," he said firmly.

Jocelyn opened her mouth to speak, but Madeleine beat her to it. "Jocelyn Garroway and Madeleine Bellefleur, the midwives." She seemed to have an air of confidence that Jocelyn didn't. Then again, it was because Madeleine hadn't seen the kinds of things that these sort of men did.

The boy opened the door, gesturing them inside. He was young-looking, seventeen maybe. He was definitely dangerous, though; Jocelyn could see the tattoos and scars down his arms and by the collar of his T-shirt, but she tried to ignore them. They got clients that were shady sometimes, but they cared for them anyway, mostly because no one else would.

"Come in," said the boy, who looked more relieved to see them then anything else.

The two walked in, and Jocelyn noticed him putting a gun into the waistband of his jeans.

"Sorry," he said, "you never know who will come knocking."

Jocelyn looked away from the boy, and at his apartment. It was more of a room, actually, and it was a bit smaller than the main room if Jocelyn's. She suddenly felt very fortunate as she looked around at the cheap, poorly repaired wooden furniture that was there; a small table with two chairs, a small cabinet that looked like it held any and all dishes, a small, soot-covered wood-burning stove, a door-less doorway that seemed to lead to a small bathroom, and a twin-sized futon that lie near the only window, which was filthy, but the only source of light, dim from the streetlamp right outside.

There was a girl sitting on the futon, a man's leather jacket- probably the boy's- pulled around her shoulders, and a dinghy canvas blanket over the rest of her. She smiled gently at Jocelyn, which made her see the fear behind the girl's eyes.

"Hello," said Jocelyn, smiling a friendly smile. "Are you Maia?"

"Yes," the girl said, moving some of her braided hair out of her face. Jocelyn could see the darkness around her eyes, like she'd had makeup there at one point, but it was cleaned off poorly.

The boy went to the girl's side, knelt down, and took her hand. She smiled at him, and he smiled at her.

"Alright." Jocelyn went over to the bed, knelt to the floor, and set down her bag. Madeleine did the same. "Do you know how far along you are?"

"About four months," said Maia, looking to Jocelyn, but keeping a hold on the boy's hand.

"And what's your story?" Jocelyn asked, opening up her bag and looking for her measuring tape.

"Well…" Maia hesitated. "I'm… Do I have to tell you?"

"Not at all." Jocelyn found her measuring tape, and took it out of her bag. Madeleine got out the leather-bound booklet, ink, and writing utensil, and prepared to take notes. "But I may need to know the father's name, but I assure you, its confidential."

"Jordan may or may not be the father," Maia said, looking up at the boy. He gave her a reassuring smile.

So perhaps Maia was a prostitute? Was that why she seemed afraid?

"Then who are you?" Madeleine asked patiently, writing something down.

"I'm the boy that's going to take care of her," he said, squeezing her hand.

"Than I can put you down at the father if you'd like," Madeleine offered.

Maia and Jordan looked at each other for a second, then answered in unison. "Yes."

Jocelyn began rubbing her hands together to warm them, then hesitantly hovered them near Maia's barely poking out stomach. "May I?"

Maia nodded, and Jocelyn pulled up the rim of her brown T-shirt, and put the measuring tape vertically across her stomach.

"Thirteen weeks," Jocelyn said, and Madeleine wrote it down. "Do you both live here?"

"Um…" Maia bit her lip, looking down.

"She's hiding here, rather," said Jordan, "from Raphael."

"If he knew I was pregnant…" Maia trailed off.

"You may need to clean this place up a bit if you want to have the baby here," said Jocelyn.

Jordan nodded.

"And Maia, you should be eating as much fruits and vegetables as possible, okay? And exercising."

Maia nodded. It was not the easiest to find fresh fruits or vegetables in Ithuriel, especially for someone poor enough to live here, but dried fruit on the other hand…

"But also, she needs to rest, and be as stress-free as possible," said Madeleine.

"We'll work on that," said Jordan, squeezing Maia's hand again.

"Alright," Jocelyn went on, "what sort of symptoms have you been having?"

"Um…" Maia glanced at Jordan, as if hesitating due to embarrassment. "Well, I'm not throwing up anymore?"

Jordan looked unaffected, and Madeleine wrote it down.

"I'm very tired," Maia went on, "and I'm constantly wanting random foods."

Jordan chuckled, smiling at her fondly, as if he were remembering something.

Jocelyn looked at him curiously. Valentine hadn't even had this much enthusiasm when she was pregnant with Clary. He'd never been this kind.

"I've…" Maia glanced at Jordan again. "I've stopped getting…" She blushed slightly.

"I got it," said Madeleine, winking as she wrote it down.

"And I feel…" Maia frowned, trying to think of a word. "Fuller?"

Jocelyn nodded. "Perfectly normal."

"She can smell better, too," said Jordan. "The dust hasn't bothered her much till recently."

Maia nodded in agreement. "Oh, and very real dreams. That's it."

"Very good," said Jocelyn. "And… has the baby moved yet?"

"No, not yet," said Maia, touching her stomach.

"Alright." Jocelyn smiled and pulled Maia's shirt down.

Maia offered Jocelyn a tentative smile and pulled the leather jacket around herself more tightly.

Jordan reached forward to shake Jocelyn's hand- something rarely done by someone like him- which surprised her, but she shook it.

"Thank you for doing this," he said, looking extremely grateful.

"Of course." Jocelyn's preconceived notions about this boy had been far from off. Despite his tattoos and obvious involvement in a gang, this boy was rather pleasant, not to mention civil.

Jocelyn put her things in her bag, and Madeleine did the same. The two stood up, and Jordan showed them out.

"We'll return in four weeks," said Madeleine.

"We look forward to seeing you," said Jordan, then he closed the door behind them.

* * *

Jonathan picked uncomfortably at the long sleeved shirt he was wearing. For once, he wasn't wearing his leather jacket, and he was wearing a long sleeved shirt to cover up his tattoos and scars.

And though it was uncomfortable, no one was backing away from him, or avoiding looking at him. In fact, he saw a few pretty girls winking at him. He smiled back, not used to this sort of thing.

"Two coppers, please." said the man at the front door. He was tough-looking, and Jonathan hated that he immediately thought of every way to take him down.

He reached into his pocket, and handed the bouncer the two coppers, then he was let in.

The music echoed through the large room, bouncing off the peaked, wooden ceiling as hoards of people danced to it.

Jonathan considered dancing, but decided to go to the bar first. He sat down on one of the wooden stools, and pulled out the small, leather-bound journal that had belonged to his father. He skimmed over Valentine's vague entries, trying to take what he could from them.

From the looks of it, he would probably have more luck with this Jocelyn then with the other one, because Celine is dead, and her son would have never known her. Jocelyn, on the other hand, was alive (he hoped) and had a child that would be Jonathan's half-sibling. He had a feeling it would be a boy, for some reason.

"What can I get you?" a voice interrupted his thoughts and reading. Jonathan looked up to see a girl bartender with fiery red curls. He'd seen her before, though he'd forgotten her name

"Brandy Collins," he said, then added a "please" which he wasn't used to doing.

The girl nodded, and started to make it. He watched as she struggled to remember exactly what to do and it what order, but she was done within a minute.

"Here you go." she set the glass in front of him, then her eyes turned to the leather-bound booklet. Her eyes went wide. "Is that… a _real_ book?"

Jonathan scoffed, slightly amused. "No."

"Oh. Then is it a journal?" You didn't often see journals in Ithuriel, it was true, but Valentine, apparently, not only wanted to document his life, but had trust issues, so he felt he had to write his secrets in a journal that he always had hidden. Jonathan had happened upon it by accident when he was about twelve, since he lived in his father's old house with Hodge.

"You shouldn't bring your journal to a place like this," the girl said. "It could get stolen."

"It isn't mine," he found himself saying.

The girl raised her eyebrows at his.

"It was my father's," he explained.

"Ah." the girl nodded.

"Clary." the blonde boy who Jonathan often saw working at the bar said, looking at Clary while cleaning a glass. "There are more costumers."

"Right! Sorry!" And with that, she went off to serve other customers.

* * *

**I kinda want to ship Jonathan with someone, but NOT CLARY!**

******So, since I'm having a hard time writing this story, could you guys give me suggestions/requests? Any questions about the world they live in?**

******I could also use a beta if anyone's interested.**

******I'll try and post soon!**

******-Jade**


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